Serendipity
by UnderThePureMoon
Summary: AU. With Clive's passion to write fiction growing and his passion for journalism struggling, he finds it to be much harder to take care of his little brother, Luke. And with Luke's growing refusal to talk to anyone, Clive finally finds some comfort in a girl who shows him how to be passionate about almost everything. Clive/Amelia.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there, everyone. I don't really know why I'm doing this with everything on my plate, it's almost eleven pm over here and I still haven't done my homework, don't think I'll be doing it anyways, but this just sprang out in my notebook all of a sudden.**

**I rewatched Eternal Diva (when do I not, actually) and really pulled apart Amelia's character, I made sure to memorize her personality, so I hope you will approve of the way I'm going to write her from now on (criticism if you have written her please?), so now I just think I have a great backstory for her in this AU story. I also hope I do a good job on Clive!**

**I used Klaus because I didn't know what else to use for the character in the book, haha.**

**I realize Clive's meeting with Amelia is really cliché, but I thought it kind of fit the setting they were in… I'm also a little lazy to think up a better meeting...**

**But, anyways, ****I hope you enjoy~!**

* * *

"A misunderstanding, it seems?"

"Yes sir, it won't happen again. I promise."

"I would hope not. And I don't want or plan to see you here again."

Clive nodded and scurried off into the distance, knowing there would be no luck in getting that interview after all. He had been changing his passions since he was little, trying to find one that suited him best, but no matter what job or hobby he found interest in, someone always got the better of him and pushed him around.

Sadly, he absolutely loved writing, and maybe journalism wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but reporting was what he loved. And it seemed to him that his career was in danger of being hurt without this interview.

He sighed and hung his head in shame, walking nowhere in particular. What was he going to do now?

Clive loved this. He loved being a reporter, loved the thrillingly tragic stories the _he _got to write down on _his _notepad, he loved hearing these stories told by normal everyday people, the kinds of stories you would only expect to find in fiction.

He let out another sigh just thinking about how it wasn't working out as well as he planned. He looked up to see where his feet had carried him… The library.

**~ x ~ x ~ x ~**

_Great going, Clive_, he thought, _Your stupid incoherent babbling noise that you call thinking brought you here! 'Oh, I'm going to lose my job, Luke and I will be out on the streets, now let's read the rest of this unproductive day away!'_

He entered anyway, despite his brain screeching at him to go back and get that interview. Right now.

Clive stopped thinking about it. His brain always lashed out at him, so Clive always found his heart smarter. Which is why most of his thinking was done from his heart. Metaphorically…. I suppose.

He did the first thing that came to him… He went to the mystery section.

Whenever something like this happened to him, Clive always got out his favorite book of all time. It was full of exciting puzzles, awful tragedies, surprising plot twist, moments to cherish, revenge, and most importantly, time travel. However upset it made him, Clive did not own it, but granted, the book was rather used and old, so Clive could never decipher the title. But one thing he could find was the author's name: Hershel Layton. Ever since then Clive had been reading the series Layton was writing.

Clive loved all of Layton's books, he had reread them times and times again. No matter what, the time traveling book was his favorite. He loved the hints of revenge in it had always captured his heart.

Perhaps it was because the character who it belonged to, Klaus, reminded of him of well, himself! Or perhaps it was because the character who was supposedly the 'Professor's Apprentice' in it reminded him of his little brother.

No matter what it was, the story captured him and was somehow always relating into whatever he wrote, be it his own stories or his reports.

Alas, Clive sighed, as of late, the book hadn't been on his mind… He couldn't stop thinking about his problems… The usual, his passion for journalism was hitting a bump in the road (but it did help him practice his writing… And maybe it was Layton's fault for him wanting to be an author as well?), how he was probably going to have to get a second job, his little brother's unusual depression, but most importantly how he was going to take care of his little brother…

After their parents had died, Clive had immediately stepped up, taking care of Luke ever since… With some help from a daughter, Emmy, of his mother's friend. She babysat Luke from time to time, and her family helped him out now and again. He sure was thankful for that.

So now of all times, with all these pent up stress and emotion, was a perfect time to completely lose himself in the book… if he did say so himself. He whistled as he walked along to find the book -

_THUD!_

He was suddenly on the ground.

What? How had that happened?

He looked up to see that a blonde girl had tumbled and fallen, face first, right on top of him!

Her face quickly reddened (he was a boy, so you can't blame the poor girl!) as she mumbled something Clive couldn't make out, most likely a sorry, and lifted herself off of him.

Clive himself got up and realized the tons of books she was carrying had scattered on the floor and she was picking them up. He bent over and grabbed the one closest to him, staring at the cover art. It was the hero of the story, he guessed, holding some kind of chess piece. He shook his head, not thinking much of it, and blew the dust off the book.

"Here you are miss-"

"Amelia." she quickly corrected.

He could automatically tell she _despised _being called miss. "Amelia." he replied with a smile, holding out the book to her.

She retrieved the book from his hand, her face still looking at the ground, "I'm terribly sorry for falling on you…"

"Oh, it's not a problem really," Clive smiled, "I'm just glad I was there to break your fall."

"But if you don't mind my asking, just why were you in such a rush?"

"Well, I was sitting underneath the shelf reading and I noticed you were walking to the shelf, so…" she trailed off, her voice barely audible in the slightest.

Clive chuckled, "You didn't have to move, miss-"

"_Amelia,_" she corrected again, with some slight hint of annoyance.

"Amelia, you didn't have to move, I would have noticed you."

"I know, but I -"

"Or is it because you _wanted _to bump into me?" he could've went off into a ramble about fate, but once he saw her cheeks puff out in irritation, he chuckled again.

But now, he realized he had struck a nerve in the girl, because she whipped up her head, her bangs flying out of her face to reveal her large, brown eyes glaring at him.

"If you'll excuse me, _mister_ -"

"Clive." he corrected with a wink.

She smiled a tad bit, her glare softening, but not disappearing, "_Clive_, I have somewhere to be."

He waved as she walked past him. He swore he heard her give out a laugh as she went to check out her books.

He noted the way her braid swung back and forth as she left the library.

Quickly, Clive opened his bag and pulled out one of his many, _many_ writing notebooks. He scribbled down something that he figured would be his title. 'Fascination.' He scribbled the words 'Day One' underneath the title itself.

It seemed like Clive had just found his next writing project.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Mocking J: ahdfklafsjh thank yooouuuu 3 I'm always nervous I'll screw up their characters in some way~! I'm glad you like the idea as well! I told some of my friends who like this series about it today and they seem to think it's a good idea too~! I'm glad we all like it~**

**Anyways, hello all! I apologize for throwing Emmy into this story and stuff… I always seem to mention her in any kind of Professor Layton fan fiction…And not because she's my favorite or I'm obsessed with her. I have an admiration for her, actually~! She shows everyone (including myself) that not all girls are delicate flowers! There's always a character like her appearing in my writing… Any kind of writing… …Yeah… It's pathetic, but I love characters like that.**

**This chapter is merely home life, the death of their parents, and Luke's shutting himself away. **

**ewe ;; **

**Also, if I was unclear last time, Layton's books are the games. For example, Layton wrote a book that is merely a copy of the Unwound Future (but so you realize it, those events didn't happen here in this story - they are merely fiction!). AndI'mbringingClairebackbecausesh e'smyfavorite.**

**Enjoy~?**

* * *

Clive walked through the door, a small smile engraved in his features. He might not have gotten the interview, but he had gotten inspiration for something, and of course was carrying his favorite book with him! Could you blame him?

"I'm home!" he called out, though not sure why after he had done so. Had it been to alert Emmy? Usually Luke would run up to him and ask him a million and one questions… But not these days. Luke had been shunning himself from the world, to which no one could figure out why.

Emmy walked into the doorway, staring at Clive with a sad look.

"No luck, Em?"

"I don't know what else to do! If he won't talk to you, he won't talk to any of us!"

"It's not your fault… It's probably mine."

"Clive, you can't blame this on yourself. We don't know what the problem is, how it was caused or even a solution."

Clive shook his head. There she went, with her crazy investigation criminal justice or whatever skills she was planning to use in the future.

"I don't know anymore, Emmy. He's just… Depressed or something. When I was that age, I got like that as well. He's just growing up, I guess."

"Yeah," Emmy said, sighing, "Because you were _growing up_ around that age or whatever that means." she finished, adding air quotes around 'growing up.'

"…You make a surprisingly good point," he mumbled, but stared at her strangely, "So, what is it?"

"I think he might need a psychiatrist." she suggested but Clive only groaned.

"If he's not talking to me or _you, _why in heaven's name would he talk to a complete stranger?"

Emmy stared down, "I suppose you're right in that area."

"And anyways, Em, I'm not trying to shoot you down, a psychiatrist would be good for all of us, but how would I even get around to gathering the money for that?"

"Don't tell me you -"

He nodded, "I lost that interview. I showed them my identification and all, but they just wouldn't let me talk."

"Oh, Clive, I'm so sorry… And that one was important for you, as well…"

"It's not your fault. It's mine, again." He sighed.

"All right, well, I've got to get going… Studying calls! Good luck Clive! I'll help out soon, keep me posted on Luke!" she had said, and also some other things that Clive couldn't make out because of her constant moving to gather her things and walk out of the door.

**~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~**

Clive would try talking to Luke again, painful as it was to have his little brother ignore him. He was certain it had to do with their parents as the month of December, the month of the accident, was fast approaching…

Luke had once blamed himself for 'ruining Clive's life.' Clive was going to be studying abroad for a semester of his time in university. Their parents had been so proud! And if anything could've been better, Luke's tenth birthday had just happened.

And then a week later, their parents had died in the freak car accident. Spur of the moment. Some reckless driver in London had rammed into their parent's car. And of course, the reckless driver lived, but their parents died. Now, isn't that always the way?

Clive had taken it hard the second he found out about it. He locked himself in his room, reading and writing, scurrying in and out for daily needs only. Luke felt completely vulnerable and alone at that point, so he had went to stay with Emmy and her younger sister, Flora, for a week. Clive realized he couldn't go to Paris to study now. He got a job as a reporter at the local newspaper, and from there on decided he would be taking care of Luke.

Luke blamed himself for ruining Clive's dreams, and though Clive told him time and time again that he had never blamed Luke for anything. In fact, Clive had almost blamed their parents for this. But eventually, tears had stopped falling so constantly, jokes between the brothers continued.

Most importantly, Luke had thought Clive was the sun. He really was Luke's savior. The best brother in all of history!

Now Luke didn't want to talk. Was he getting these emotions again? Was he blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault? Or was it worse? Was he thinking that Clive was the worst brother ever?

Clive had left him with Emmy all day and he was never home and -

No way. Luke would've come out and told him he hated him. (Clive knew this because he had done it once when their parents were alive. Luke had gotten upset that Clive was leaving, but eventually everything had all been settled between them. They were always a close pair of siblings.)

**~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~**

Clive walked in to the room to see Luke's face.

Why did he look so dead behind his usually cheerful eyes?

"Luke? Are you all right?" he asked tentatively.

"…" And again there was no response.

Clive sighed, "Luke, you're going to have to talk to me eventually."

"…"

"Luke, stop hiding. There's no point. Everyone knows you're upset over something. Now, what's wrong?"

"…"

Clive groaned, "Luke, if it's about me being an awful brother, I see what you mean, I know I've been so busy lately. I can't help it. I promise one day it won't be like this and we'll have fun together, just like we used to."

Luke looked up, shaking his head.

"So it's _not _about me?"

Luke nodded.

"Can I have a hint?"

No response. No blinks. No pointing to an item or a person or a letter or something of the sort.

Clive sighed. Was it school? No way Luke would tell him about that. If Luke had gained anything from Clive at all, it was the fact that they never told any of their problems about school to any elder. At all.

He sighed once more and walked away from his younger brother to go to his own room upstairs. Maybe he could get some reading in, or maybe some writing for his next project done. It was really all too much for him. Stress was weighing him down.

He opened the book to a random page and smiled at the scene. It might not have been his favorite, but Layton's way of explaining the heart breaking romance between the Professor and the scientist was amazing.

Why couldn't he write like that?

He supposed it was because life didn't want to shine any new kind of light on him. Which reminded him, what was he going to do for his article?

He was supposed to hand it in soon! Very soon! In fact, three days from now!

…

But then again, writing something for the plot line of _Fascination _might not be a bad idea. He closed Layton's book and pulled out the notebook where he had scribbled down the title.

He began to write about the girl he had met, Amelia, in depth. Everything about her, her blonde hair, her brown eyes, the way she despised being called Miss, how she puffed out her cheeks when she was irritated, how shy she was and so much more.

He could've went on forever.

It was true, he had found some kind of interest in her. Be it the fact that their meeting (to him at least) was so utterly cliché or maybe it was because she had an interest in chess (something Clive never knew how to do), whatever it was had him thinking that she was something special.

But, then again, he wrote about most people he had met… However, none had inspired him this much.

Clive's fascination was taking a turn for something. Something… awful? Grand?

It was nothing like Layton. Layton took a character and introduced them, pulled them apart, but then twisted their personality, but somehow, it all made sense.

Unlike his talented idol, Clive had to get to know someone to pull their personality traits from their appearance traits.

Clive had to pull each character he wrote, each person he met (and wrote about) piece by piece until he finally deciphered them.

And that was when he realized, Luke needed to be deciphered once more. But not by him, Emmy, Flora or anyone they knew.

It had to be a complete stranger.


End file.
